Free Men
by pacsi07
Summary: Piett survived Endor. So did Vader, now going by the name of his true self, Anakin Skywalker once more. Now, eight years later, they meet again. As free men.


Characters: Firmus Piett/Anakin Skywalker

Summary: Piett survived Endor. So did Vader, now going by the name of his true self, Anakin Skywalker once more. Now, eight years later, they meet again. As free men.

Notes: What you see below is my first and probably last Star Wars one-shot. It took me long to complete it and now that I have I thought I would share it with you. Please note that I'm not a native speaker of English. What's even worse, I've spent so far only a total of two weeks in native English speaking environment. I see it as a logical consequence that my grammar and choice of words will never be perfect. Please do try your best to overlook the mistakes I make.

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Free Men

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He felt profoundly disturbed. Even more profoundly so than barely two years ago, when he was standing in front of the closed door of his superior's private office, clutching his resignation in his sweaty palm. It had taken him countless sleepless nights before he finally decided to break with the Imperial Remnant for good. He had felt drained and empty, immensely tired of the struggle to identify himself with the values of the ultimate military organization he had served. Things had changed after Endor, changed for the worse.

While ordering his personal droid to pack his belongings and have them loaded aboard the small shuttle that carried him to his transport home to Axxila, it struck him that he was finally putting an end to a long phase of his life, and swore not to let it haunt him in his years to come. Life was not that kind to assist him in doing so, it seems.

Standing now face to face to someone he had not even in his wildest dreams imagined having to see again was more than Firmus Piett could handle without trembling inside. Invisibly, though. If there is lesson he learnt from serving on Executor, not letting your superior see your hesitations and momentary indecisions was definitely something he would always remember. In fact, there were many lessons like that to learn. _How pathetic_, he thought to himself. Even now, more than eight years after what happened on that fateful day above the forest moon that every six-year-old in the galaxy could name, he found himself unable to respond without spending an almost imperceptible moment considering what his words might evoke in _him_. In _him_, who, as a response to those words, was capable of ending your pitiful and disillusioned life as an imperial soldier in less time than it takes to push the button to launch a missile.

Yes, it was a disturbing feeling indeed. However, the imperceptible moment had passed long ago, and the question that still lingered in the air - "Are you feeling well, Piett?" - could not be left unanswered.

"I'm just… shocked by what I see, it seems." Piett admitted, recalling the suddenly-so-fresh memory of foolishly intruding into Vader's meditation chamber once back in their time together on Executor. He had a glimpse then on what the Dark Lord was hiding behind the black helmet, the sight of which would make him shiver ever after that occasion.

"Do I still look that bad?" Anakin asked, letting half a smile escape his lips. Through the Force, he was perfectly aware of the bitter mental war Piett was waging with his own memories. If only his faithful admiral knew what a difference the last few years and the simple feeling of being surrendered by his family and their love had finally made in him...

"I'm... not sure it's your appearance that you would like to discuss with me, my Lord." The ex-admiral said.

Anakin's face flinched at the way he was addressed, as it did every time so when being referred to his past that he was still struggling to come to terms with. Sometimes he had a vague feeling that the struggle in itself was useless, and may not lead to anywhere, let alone to the inner peace he had sought all his life. His inner peace was something that – as her daughter would put it – seemed to keep slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he tried to hold on to it. These days he was more and more convinced that even if it had to be hiding somewhere at the end of a very long tunnel, he had already lost too much on the way there to be worth continuing the journey. Trying to persuade others to see his repentance might well be a similarly endless tunnel, especially with someone who saw so much of what he used to be. He felt he had to try anyway. "_It's a trait we can't get rid of, Father. We simply can't be dissuaded of pursuing our ideals_.", exactly as Luke told him once.

"It's Anakin. Please, Firmus." He said slowly, adding a tone of seriousness to his words.

The Force registered another flinch, but on the other face this time. It was definitely not the reply Firmus Piett had expected to the almost-challenging statement he had uttered in his confusion, having been totally lost in finding something more fitting to say. Not that in the turmoil of his conflicting emotions he knew what was that he had _really_ expected.

"Anakin." The man repeated, clearly and thoughtfully, as if tasting the name on his tongue.

The addressed one offered a slight nod in return, and went on, "I understand you no longer serve the Remnant."

Instead of just simply acknowledging the fact, Piett found himself desperately trying to figure out where this surreally casual conversation will eventually lead. Had anyone told him even a couple of days ago that he would soon be on first-name basis with the fearful Darth Vader himself, he would have sent the poor fellow for a brain scan. And guess what, here he was, feeling his stomach tighten in an all too familiar way. Still, he forced himself to reply, covering up his unnerving insecurity.

"I no longer serve anyone." Anakin's head jerked, as he shot a sideway glance at his ex-admiral, sensing the undercurrent of his determined isolation from his past. On the other hand, upon hearing his own voice, Piett realized that his statements consequently tended to sound more hostile than he meant them to be. It was a strange realization, especially being followed by something… fear, perhaps? "My career as a soldier has ended." He corrected himself hastily.

"I understand." Anakin nodded with a smile. Sometimes it was amusing to read unshielded emotions that bounced back and forth in such a funny way in the Force. What Piett had been presenting him with since they had greeted each other a mere three minutes ago was in fact an entire arsenal of emotions, so many in fact, that Anakin was beginning to lose his way in them as if in a labyrinth. Ten years ago, it would have angered him to an immeasurable extent. Now he only smiled at the man's confusion.

"You do?" Piett queried, unwisely skipping the imperceptible moment of foreseeing the possible implications of his utterance. _Stars, Firmus , what are you doing…_, he thought to himself, desperately fighting the urge to grimace as the memory of that clumsy Ozzel being strangled slowly crept forward from a hidden corner of his mind.

"You seem a little on edge, Firmus." Unsure of being hurt by or feeling ashamed at the precise evaluation of his present state, the ex-soldier raised his eyebrows at the subject of his ever-growing trepidation. To his surprise, Anakin averted his eyes as if in shame, took a deep breath and gestured to the nearby armchairs as an invitation for his company to sit down. Then incorporating all the warmth he could into his deep baritone, he quietly added, "You have no reason to feel being threatened by me, I hope you already know that."

Piett followed the man with his eyes as he stepped to the drink cart in the corner and poured a glass of Correlian for both of them. He couldn't help but notice a slight pink line on the man's bald skull exactly where that ugly scar had been. The feeling of a shudder ran through him as he briefly wondered what Vader must have gone through to look the way he does now, so human and so… _different_, as he was standing there in front of him and handing him the glass. Yet again he found himself regretting his previous harsh reactions.

"With all respect, I am not used to discussing anything other than military strategies with you." The man said with his perfect sense of diplomacy, in a hope to compensate for his harshness.

Anakin sat down and slowly leaned back in the armchair, nodding his head in acknowledgment, "And I can not blame you for that."

An uneasy silence enveloped the two men, not for the first time. Using the silence for _something_ that didn't involve returning Anakin's intent gaze, Piett looked around, taking in the tastefully decorated room. Although it was not the first time that he had been here, he couldn't recall having been in this particular room. The furniture suggested masculine habitation, with a hint of being tended to by a woman's care. Through the large open window, which occupied most of the wall facing the garden, the tinkling laughter of two children could be heard.

"I was told your daughter is a precious little girl." Anakin offered, pulling the man out of his thoughts. He was most surprised upon hearing that his ex-admiral married his personal assistant a few years after Endor, and since then a daughter was born to them. Thinking back on those darned times when they were both Palpatine's slaves, one way or another, Anakin could hardly picture his Piett sharing a romantic dinner with a female being. Looking at the man now, it was evident that his marriage had done him a galaxy of good, for he looked calm and balanced, and although his face obviously bore more wrinkles now, it spoke of his last few years having spent in tranquility.

"As is your granddaughter." Firmus replied, feeling his lips drawing themselves into a vague smile. It was the truth, anyway. Miraya, or his 'treasure' as he called his daughter, and Jaina Solo made friends while they attended the same day care institution on Coruscant. And he didn't object, but why should he have? Jaina was an adorable girl, gifted and delicate like her mother, charming like her father, well, in a considerably more pleasant way, though.

"So you live here with your family." Piett inserted, feeling in need to initiate a real conversation rather than just clumsy exchanges, or at least to try.

"I don't, actually. I have my own apartment nearby." Anakin informed, as he raised his leg to rest his ankle on his other knee and put himself in a more comfortable position. Unlike his companion, who was still sitting with straight back in the armchair as if he had swallowed an oversized hydrospanner. Anakin resisted the temptation to comment on his posture, not wanting to escalate his anxiety further. "I do spend a lot of time here, though."

"I'm rather surprised that you chose this planet as your residence." Piett commented, referring to the simple fact that they were at no other place than on Coruscant, in the heart of the galaxy from every respect. "The risk of being recognized by someone here...", the ex-admiral continued incredulously, but his words were interrupted by Anakin's real, deep, whole-hearted laugh, that filled the room and blew away a significant part of Piett's initial trepidation.

"I did everything in my capacity to disguise myself, as you can see." The man smiled, gesturing to his now almost fully healed body.

Thanks to the stars, it was one of those few days when he felt miraculously well. There just seemed to be enough oxygen in the air for his lungs, even without the tiny portable device he always kept within easy reach, in case his weak respiratory system needed assistance.

His recovery was mostly a mental process, though, finally accepting that his cyborg elements were a part of him and would always be, helped him a lot on the way. _Should you ever have financial difficulties, my daughter, a scrap metal collector will pay good money for me…_, he joked to Leia not long ago, for which in return he was rewarded with a warm embrace that at long last put his worst fears about his daughter's incapacity to fully forgive him to rest. That particular tunnel did have an end after all.

"It's not merely appearances that I'm talking about.", Firmus shook his head in negation. Somehow, the ever-present, barely suppressed arrogance and the unique, overwhelming dominance were so identical, that they left no place for doubt in his mind that the man he was facing now used to be _him_. And he was not the only one who spent years in the Dark Lord's company to recognize that. Furthermore, given the sophisticated methods of the various intelligence bodies that never stopped thriving after the Empire, if anyone had a sudden brainwave about the possibility of Darth Vader being alive, it would not take more than a matter of days to trace him. The taunting image of his cruel superior being led away in binders popped into Piett's mind for an instant. Then as quickly as it came it dissolved into nothing, and he refocused his attention on the man sitting in front of him, watching him with a half-amused, half-serious expression, as if he could see through his forehead right into the restless swirl of his thoughts. "I am not sure how to put it correctly, but... you have a certain aura, which is difficult to miss." Piett explained.

Anakin lifted his eyebrows and suppressed a smile at the man's carefully selected words. "I never realized you possessed Jedi talents, Firmus."

"I can assure you that I most definitely don't." Piett said quickly, almost chuckling at the assumption. Anakin's belated soft laugh filled him with a strange feeling that he had been taking this whole situation far too seriously.

_He is right, after all,_ Anakin acknowledged to himself, following the momentary amusement at his ex-admiral's reserved responses to practically everything he said.

There _was_ a risk that one day it would come to light that he didn't follow his evil master's fate, just on the contrary, he was alive and well. Yes, perhaps it would be wiser to hide.

It now seemed light years in the past that he was lying helplessly on that bed in a far-away Medcenter, balancing on the thin line between life and death, with only the Force helping him sense his son sitting next to him and clinging desperately to his remaining hand. While Luke was silently praying for his newly-found father's life to every possible god and goddess the galaxy had ever known, he promised himself that he would never hide a thing again. Not himself, not the ones he loved, and especially not the most precious treasure he had ever possessed - his true feelings that he hid even from himself for so long.

Anakin subtly felt as the cruel, dark sorrow that he found so hard to fight against descended upon him, curving its invisible fingers around his windpipe. He struggled a bit for his next breath - but what happened next quickly restored his balance. The door flew open with a loud bang, and the two little owners of the laughter from minutes before exploded into the room at a speed that even the latest model of X-Wing class fighters could hardly exceed. Miraya skidded to an abrupt halt after a few meters from the door, and now looked wide-eyed at his father's company with pure curiosity, rather than fear, written on her pretty face. She had never seen such a big man before.

_There is__n't much of her father in her_, Anakin took a mental note in the short second that his granddaughter let him have before climbing up into his lap, enthusiastically chattering about an incredibly large blue bird with four wings that they had seen in the garden.

Piett reached for her daughter who obediently walked over to him, not taking her eyes off Anakin. The man lifted Miraya upon his knees, tucked a few strands of dark brown hair that had escaped his daughter's thick braids behind her ears and gave her a soft fatherly kiss on the cheek.

Not a minute passed by before the door opened again, although with less intensity this time, and the lady of the house, Leia Organa Solo strolled into the room. With a roll of her eyes, she let out a weary sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Jaina Solo, I clearly remember telling you to stay outdoors." The woman said with light reprimand. Being oblivious of what turn the conversation had taken between the two elders, she inconspicuously looked around in the room, without actually knowing what she was looking for. Everything was in peaceful order.

Leia still wondered what possessed her the day before, after that lighthearted dinner with the Piett family. Led by something other than her own common sense, she had heard herself telling Firmus the truth about her parentage. What she saw on the man's face then was probably the most dumbfounded expression man can ever produce, surpassed only by what followed next, upon hearing another truth - about Vader's faked death.

After his initial, vehement refusal to meet the ex-Lord, Piett had commed her earlier that morning to say yes. His sudden change of heart surprised Leia, and filled her mind with subtle anxiety.

Now it seemed it was needless to worry. The men laughed as Jaina hurriedly climbed off her grandfather's lap and ran to her mother, with her little arms outstretched, gesturing the size of the bird she saw. With a shake of her head, Leia hushed the children out of the room, and turned to his father. "I've unlocked the hangar door."

"What for?" Anakin queried with surprise, not taking the hint.

His daughter looked at him with a sheepish smile. "I thought you might want to get your admiral acquainted with the Falcon."

"Oh. I see." Anakin chuckled, returning the smile. Piett watched the short exchange in silence, marveling at the tangible rapport between father and daughter. "Shall we, Firmus?" The ex-Lord asked as he turned back to face the man. "She is more beautiful than ever."

Indeed, after endless working hours under Han's and Chewie's hands, the good old Falcon went through a complete refurbishment over the years and was now spending most of her time in the hangar, except for those rare occasions when Han took her for a careful joyride.

"I still have terrible nightmares about chasing her." Piett said in reply, with a smile flickering around his lips.

"Don't tell me…" Anakin laughed as he raised and put his empty glass on the table between them. His laugh died abruptly as he straightened and placed his large hands on his belt. "Do _I_ appear in your nightmares, too?" He asked, his voice dropping noticeably, both in volume and intensity.

"Quite frequently." The man admitted openly. His 'black mask dreams', as his wife would call them, were a constant reminder of what he had to endure as a soldier. And still, looking back now, he didn't consider living in fear of Vader the worst experience he had gained in his life. In fact, it taught him much about people and their values. He was not blind to see that although, alongside with Ozzel, it was his ambitions that led him on board the _Executor_, it was in fact his continuous search for excellence that helped him _survive_ Vader.

"Somehow I feel that will change after today." Piett added quietly, as he stood up and bore his eyes into Anakin's. "For the better."

The man returned the gaze and took a step to close not just the physical gap between the two of them.

"I hope so, Firmus. I really hope so." He said as he put a hand on his ex-admiral's shoulder and gently squeezed it.

"Let's go." Anakin said, and gestured to the door, next to which Leia was standing, silently watching the conversation between the two. As Piett walked towards her, she didn't fail to notice how deeply the man was affected by the encounter with the man he had served. She gently touched the arm of the elder, who looked down at her with a grateful smile.

Anakin turned back from the doorstep to briefly gaze out of the window towards the already setting sun. The beauty of the moment rendered him momentarily motionless, and he watched with awe as the last sunbeams struggled to scare away the threatening darkness. With a sigh, Anakin stepped out of the room and closed the door, leaving a small part of his troubled past behind.


End file.
